


The Shape of Us

by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (implied) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Alternate Universe - noone died in the Hale fire, Derek Gets Therapy, Derek and Stiles are soulmates, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Isaac Erica and Boyd are Hales, Kate Argent makes a brief apperance, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Well - Freeform, Werewolf Derek Hale, identical marks, otherwise no Argents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 13:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving/pseuds/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving
Summary: Derek doesn't think he deserves a soulmate. The universe doesn't agree





	The Shape of Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KFlynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KFlynn/gifts).



> Written for Saint Valentine's sterek exchange and as a gift for KFlynn: I hope you (and everybody else) will enjoy this.
> 
> Partly beta'ed by the amazing Senna, all remaining mistakes are mine
> 
> Comments, kudos and constructive critism welcome.

Derek learns the scent of sorrow - salt and something bitter sharp - when he asks his dad about the mark on his arm. It looks like the outline of a swan even if it’s difficult to tell, the lines a light grey so pale they’re nearly invisible on his tan skin. Derek learns there are some things he can’t ask his dad.

Being as attuned to the Moon as werewolves are, it’s hardly surprising that even as a child Derek knows about Her phases; however, it isn’t until he carefully traces the ink black of the waxing moon on his mother’s shoulder that he learns what “crescent” means. He doesn’t wish to upset her, to smell the same bitter sharp on her that had wafted off of his dad for days after Derek had asked. But eventually she realizes what he’s doing and tells him about soul mates.

It’s not often he gets to have his mom’s undivided attention - someone always needing to ask their Alpha’s advice or Laura’s doing something she shouldn’t be - so even if the subject soon bores him a little, Derek remains seated in her lap, hanging onto every word even if he doesn’t quite understand the significance of colors and shapes.  
Not until a few years later while watching the whole pack gathered together and watching a movie does he realize that his parents aren’t soul mates. He suffers through a week of increasingly worse stomach aches before he blurts;

“Is dad gonna leave?” and Derek can feel tears gathering in his eyes, his nose slowly clogging and lower lip trembling.

There’s surprise on his mom’s face, a brief flicker of red in her eyes and then his face is in her neck, her arms tight around him.

“Of course not,” her heart beat is steady - Derek’s sense of hearing has always been better than Laura’s and uncle Peter had taught him how to tell if someone was lying just from how their heart sounds - and her scent calming, so he manages to force the tears back.

“Why would you think so, pup?”

“You don’t have the same marks.” The words come haltingly, his voice breaking betraying his worry.

“Oh,” she sounds surprised, her arms tightening around him. They’re both silent for a few minutes before she explains that the light color of his dad’s soul mark means that his soul mate is dead, actually has been at least since Derek’s dad was 17, seeing as the mark had formed in the same light grey color as it still is. Her soulmate is somewhere out there in the world but Derek’s mom has never met them and she’s “far too in love with all of you to ever leave you.” Appeased more by his mom’s embrace than her words, Derek’s stomach decides this is the perfect time to remind him he hasn’t eaten for far too long.

~

At 15 Derek's still too young to have gotten his soul mark, but he's certain Paige is his soul mate, the outside validation of matching marks while nice aren't necessary for him to ask her out.  
She refuses at first, angry he's interrupted her practicing and unimpressed by him being the captain of the basketball team.

It doesn't keep him away, though he makes sure to come alone and not disturb her as her bow dances across the strings of her cello. It's not music he'd normally listen to, but Paige somehow makes stories come to life with every vibrating note, and Derek soon finds himself as absorbed in the music as she is.

Realizing there's more to him than the front of cocky jock, Paige eventually agrees to the date he asked her on when they first met; their love is as all consuming and world changing as first loves tend to be, though it ends in more blood and pain than most.

A few weeks shy of his 16th birthday, disillusioned and still hurting from the loss of Paige, Derek stops at the exact wrong time, helping the woman standing next to a car with a flat tire. As payment she insists on buying him coffee, and from there it’s mostly history he wants to forget.  
Less than three months later Derek’s pacing the floor of a cheap motel room searching for the right words to convince Kate to meet his mom when his phone rings, Laura’s voice thick with tears and hysteria and he only just manages to make out her demand for him to come home. He takes off as fast as he can while dialing Kate’s number; she doesn’t answer until he’s close enough to see the smoke rising dark and foreboding above the trees.

“Oh sweetie, who’d’ve thought the big bad wolf would squeal like a pig.” Her laughter echoes in his ears, the phone falling to the forest floor when his hand goes numb and then he’s running even faster than he ever has before in his life.

~

The day before his 17th birthday Derek’s afraid to fall asleep, though he does so eventually. He wakes with an itch in his arm that no amount of scratching can make go away; when he’s able to focus and see why he tries to wake everybody in a ten mile radius with his rage filled screams. It takes his alpha physically restraining him to stop him from trying to claw off the mark.

Half an hour later he’s in a car to see a therapist.

It’s awkward, just two strangers sitting in a room in complete silence. Derek would’ve thought there’d be a chaise lounge for him to lie on while the shrink (an elderly, balding man in an expensive suit) would be sitting in a chair with a notepad in one hand and a pen in the other, looking vaguely bored while asking him questions about his childhood.

Yet, when he’s finally ushered into the tastefully decorated office, the only thing he’s right about is ‘elderly’ - she’s at least four decades his senior - but so far nothing else. The woman who’d introduced herself as Violet Green has snow white, short hair and a face filled with laugh lines and the look of someone who spends a majority of their time outside, her hands are calloused and despite her age, her handshake had been firm. She reminds him vaguely of his mother, something authorian in her aura that demands respect but not blind obedience; and despite his initial reluctance, he thinks he could like her.

For months Laura takes the two hour drive with him three days a week without ever complaining and (to Derek’s surprise as well as gratitude) without asking him what he and Violet (he’d tried calling her Doctor Green but she’d smiled and told him not to make her feel old) were talking about. They’re currently working towards Derek telling them why he thinks his soul mark is a curse - or, rather, why he thinks it’s a curse on the poor soul who has the matching mark. Derek’s afraid of his family, his alpha and pack, looking at him with disgust or hatred if he tells them, though he realizes he needs to tell them or have it eat at him for the rest of his life.

Three times a week, turns into two, and eventually becomes one and still Derek can’t bring himself to say anything. He graduates high school and goes to the local community college trying to decide what he wants to do for the rest of his life.

He’s almost 20 when he wordlessly herds them to the car - he’s been driving himself to see Violet when needed for the past year - and once they stop beckons them to follow him up the stairs to the open door leading to Violet’s consultation.

She greets them as warmly as ever and asks them to take a seat in front of the tv she’s brought in for the occasion. Derek had finally decided to tell them how he’d helped Kate Argent to burn their lives to the ground, but he didn’t think he would be able to do so while being face to face with his family so he’d made a video with Violet’s help.

It’s short and to the point, no excuses or clever words to absolve him of his crimes, just the facts of how he’d helped her change her tire and how he’d fallen for her, trusted her, ending with the final phone call.

The video ends and the world holds its breath, the silence broken by a tearful “Oh, Derek...” and then his mom’s hugging him and Derek feels like he’s five again and is crying over a skinned knee and his mom kissing it better. He still doesn’t want his soul mark, but he has his pack and that’s enough to make him breathe a little easier.

~x~

Stiles would never admit it, but as his 17th birthday was drawing closer his nervousness was increasing. He was excited about the prospect of getting a soul mark, the worry was because he didn’t know what it would be. He’d never tell Scott that in the last few years he’s been afraid their marks would match - not because he doesn’t love Scott, because Stiles does, the guy is his best friend, his brother, and while nearly 20 percent of all soul marks don’t lead to a romantic and or sexual relationship between the soul mates, Stiles really hopes for his soul mate to not only be his friend but also wanting to go on dates and maybe get off together. And as much as Stiles loves Scott (and vice versa) there’s no way that’s going to happen.

Which is why he goes to school with a bright smile on his face the Monday after he’s gotten his soul mark and the black spiral-y shape that’s materialized on his ribs look nothing like the flaming fox tails on his friend’s thigh; he’s not entirely sure what his soul mark is but he’ll try to ask Deaton later, who knows maybe the druid will even give him a straightforward answer in celebration.

Entering the lunch hall Stiles steers towards the table he and Scott claimed as their own in sophomore year. He’s halfway into his seat complaining about Harris’ unfair treatment of him when he realizes Scott isn’t the only person sitting at the table. On Scott’s right sits Jackson - the biggest douche ever and captain of the lacrosse team - opposite him (on Stiles’ left) is Lydia Martin, queen bee of Beacon High and the girl Stiles used to dream about marrying and currently his only competition in the fight for valedictorian when the time comes.

Furthermore Lydia and Jackson is _the_ power couple in possibly the entirety of Beacon Hills and neither have ever deigned to be seen publicly with Scott and Stiles. Confused Stiles looks to his friend for an explanation to this natural unorder, but Scott’s attention is focused entirely on the girl sitting to his left. She’s pretty with her black curls and bright smile and Scott looks completely besotted; he says something and she throws her head back and laugh causing Stiles’ eyes to widen in surprise. Her aura, warm and golden, flares and turns into lightning; he’s read about this in one of the tomes Deaton had told him not to touch and Stiles is itching to ask her if she’s _really_ a kitsune.

“She is, and she has the same mark as your friend,” Lydia’s voice is pitched low and her lips barely moving and as Stiles turns his head to look at her she lifts the sleeve of her shirt enough that he can see her soul mark. Stiles grins.

“Aw, you _do_ care.”

She raises an eyebrow and turns her attention back to her food, on the other side of the table Jackson scowls as if every student in the room has offended him. Stiles doesn’t care just pulls his text book from his bag and skims the chapter he’s supposed to have read when the next class starts.

Before he knows it the final bell rings and he’s making his way to the parking lot; there’s no sign of Scott so Stiles pulls his phone from his pocket and opens a game. He’s stuck and tempted to throw the phone in frustration when Scott finally shows, the two getting into the Jeep and driving off towards Deaton’s clinic. Besides being a druid Deaton’s the town vet and as such has employed Scott as his assistant; Stiles, who has no desire whatsoever to be a vet, goes because Deaton’s teaching him magic and how to use his spark. And he gets to pet puppies and spend some time with Scott.

It’s usually Stiles who fills the silence with his rambling but today Scott won’t shut up about the girl from the lunch hall.

“Kira,” he sighs, and then waxes poetically about her everything to the point where Stiles is afraid he’ll get cavities just from sitting next to him. Scott keeps talking as they get out of the jeep, walk across the lot and open the door, at which point Stiles can no longer hear a word he’s saying.

Standing just inside is the most stunning man Stiles has ever seen. He’s as tall as Stiles - maybe an inch or two separating them - but definitely broader, and looks like he could bench press a small truck. His face could make the angels cry, all cheekbones and soft skin and a pair of massive eyebrows Stiles wants to get up, close and personal with (Stiles didn’t even know one could have an eyebrow kink, but there he is); like the eyebrows and the stubble the man’s hair is black and would look great on Stiles’ pillowcase.

He’s brought back to reality by a sharpå elbow to his side and Scott’s whisper hissed “Bro!” and yeah, of course the guy’s a werewolf and can smell everything Stiles is thinking, or at least the effects of everything he’s thinking. He silently curses his fair skin that makes it impossible to hide his blush and then takes a step forward reaching his hand out to the stranger.

“I’m Stiles.”

The man looks at it then at Scott, back to Stiles’ hand and then at Deaton. Stiles thinks he can see the druid smile but maybe he’s got gas, but then the man takes his hand and it feel as if the sun breaks through the clouds on a grey, cold rainy autumn day; before he can question it the man lets go of his hand.

“Derek,” he replies and then is gone faster than Stiles can think of something to say.  
When he remembers his training with Deaton both he and Scott are nowhere in sight so he makes a stop with the animals waiting for or recovering from surgery, trying to get his thoughts in order.

~

It seems Stiles getting his soul mark means that Lydia’s going to admit to know him and having her and Jackson at their table during lunch becomes a daily occurence.  
While Scott’s lost in Kira’s eyes or smile or something equally toothrottingly fluffy and Kira talks about her katana, her classes, her katana, Scott’s eyes, her katana, Scott’s hair, her parents, Scott never being allowed within ten feet of her katana and the newest superhero movie, Stiles and Lydia form a friendship he’d have never thought possible.  
He does tune in on Kira when she starts talking about superheroes though and soon they’re caught in a heated debate that leads to them agreeing on a movie marathon as soon as school lets out.

Suddenly hanging out with Lydia and Jackson being almost civil to him and Scott isn’t the only odd thing to happen to Stiles.

The jeep - and he loves the baby blue vehicle to pieces - suddenly starts when he turns the key in the ignition; not just once but _every time_ ; it’s a goddamn miracle. With finals sneaking up on him it takes him longer than it usually would to realize he hasn’t had to take the jeep to the gas station since they met Kira - which is weird considering he usually does so once a week.

Then there’s the new students suddenly sitting at his and his friends’ lunch table - Stiles is aware he’s seen them before but isn’t sure of their names. The girl, a blonde who wears leather and lipstick as if they’re armor, has a staring match with Lydia that ends with the two of them flipping their hair and smiling at each other. It seems to be some sort of signal as the three newcomers all relax and lunch continues as if nothing has happened.

The silence doesn’t last long and once Erica, Isaac and Boyd has introduced themselves they’re talking like they’ve known each other for years. Well, Boyd doesn’t but something about him tells Stiles that not much gets by him, maybe except the way Erica looks at him when he isn’t looking.

~

Erica, Boyd and Isaac are all members of the Hale pack. And while Stiles is well aware who they are - the Hale pack has lived in Beacon Hills since its foundation and are part of the land in a way only very old or very powerful (or both) packs are - neither he nor Scott has ever been introduced to the alpha. This changes when they’re invited to the Hale house to study with the three and then watch a few movies and maybe go for a run in the preserve.

Thinking back on his first meeting with the most powerful alpha in the country Stiles can’t help but laugh; she’d been elbow deep in some kind of dough, flour in her hair and down the green, frilly apron she was wearing.  
She’d greeted them warmly and told them to call her Talia and then informed them dinner would be served in two hours and she hoped they liked pizza.

Stiles would’ve thought there would be remarks aimed at Scott for choosing to become an omega - a wolf without pack - instead of having joined the Hales back when a rogue alpha had wreaked havoc on the Beacon county and among others bitten Scott without even asking. Instead Scott got questions about school and his work as a vet’s assistant, something Scott could - and would - talk almost as much about as Kira; Stiles got similar questions and an offer to borrow some of the books in the Hales library - provided Deaton didn’t mind.

It wasn’t the last time Stiles and Scott - sometimes even Lydia and Jackson - would spend the afternoons and evenings at the Hales, which of course was when he next saw Derek.  
He and Erica was arguing when Stiles tripped over his feet, though rather than falling face first onto the floor warm hands gripped his arms and help steady him.  
Looking up the first thing he noticed was the lack of stubble and then he got caught in Derek’s eyes and the heat of his body, only to be rudely brought from whatever daydream he’d been having by Erica’s;

”Get a room.”

Stiles felt like his face was on fire, carefully shrugging to get Derek to let him go. He did so and with a nod to the two of them went back to pick up the chair that had toppled over in his haste to rescue Stiles from his own clumsiness. If possible Stiles’ face turned even redder.

Erica, because she’s evil decided they should do their homework in the kitchen and Stiles wanted to protest but then Derek looked up through his lashes, his lips curving in the smallest smile possible; the words died on Stiles’ tongue and he sat down on the chair Erica held out for him.

From that day whenever Stiles was at the Hale house so was Derek. Presumably he’d been so before, too, but now he seemed to be in the same room as Stiles. If he and Erica was watching a movie in the living room Derek was sitting in a chair reading a book, when Stiles helped Talia or Alex - her husband - in the kitchen Derek was right there next to him.  
One day Stiles let himself in with the key Talia had given him and went looking for Derek, promptly telling him about the detention he’d suffered through because Harris was a dick. Derek, holding his finger to mark where he was in the book he’d been reading, was listening making sympathetic noises every once in a while. It was nice.

They graduated high school - Lydia giving an amazing valedictorian speech and Stiles clapping the loudest of them all - and before they knew it summer was over and Lydia was on the other side of the country, Jackson on the other side of the world, Scott and Isaac working at Deaton’s while taking classes at the community college, Kira goes away to pursue a teaching degree and Erica, Boyd and Stiles followed each other into law enforcement.

Erica and Boyd finally figures themselves out and in a bout of loneliness Stiles calls Derek. To his surprise the man answers on the first ring and when they hang up three hours have gone by.

But at long last they’re all back in Beacon Hills and at the Hale house where Talia and Alex are throwing a ‘welcome home’ party for all of them, the house bursting at the seams with people milling about, helping themselves to the food the Hales have made and the drinks they’ve bought; when the last guest leaves at three in the morning everybody’s a little tipsy and they fall asleep in a pile on the living room floor.

Stiles wakes up the next day with a foul taste in his mouth, his hair sticking every which way and all alone on the floor; however, before he can get up Derek walks through the door, a plate in one hand and a glass in the other. He hands Stiles the plate and he smiles when he sees there’s just a piece of toast and a little bacon on it, the glass Derek’s still holding filled with milk; the best cure against a hangover in Stiles’ opinion who makes quick work of the food and than reaches for the milk. With a smile Derek exchanges the plate for the glass and then eats the last piece of bacon that Stiles didn’t while looking thoughtfully at the younger man.

”Do I have something on my face?” Stiles probably has a milk-stache but Derek started staring before he removed the glass so it can’t be that, can it? He’s about two seconds from freaking out when Derek reaches out and brushes his thumb over Stiles’ upper lip.

“No.” And that’s apparently that since he gets to his feet, takes the glass from Stiles’ slack grip and then goes into the kitchen. A moment later Derek’s back.

“Go shower and brush your teeth, Stiles. There’s clean clothes in the bathroom,” and he’s gone again. Used to Derek’s way Stiles shrugs and goes to do as he said.

Feeling a bit more human, Stiles steps out of the bathroom freshly shower and his teeth well brushed. He’s not sure where Derek’s gotten the clothes though, the jeans are so tight he was afraid they’d cut off something important and the shirt is a size too small. He’ll admit the suit him, though, but he misses his hoodie and t-shirt. Then he sees Derek looking at him and the thought is lost.

The air is heavy and Stiles can’t move until the shrill sound of a phone startles them both from their stupor. Derek shakes his head and motions for Stiles to follow him; he ignores the phone as he leads Stiles out the house and into the Camaro, opens the door for him and then closes it once Stiles is seated and buckled in. They don’t speak a word as they drive through the preserve and Beacon Hills or for the next twenty minutes until Derek stops in front of a restaurant Stiles has only heard Lydia speak about.

Puzzled he turns to Derek who somehow looks nervous;

”Would you,” he swallows nervously, “I mean,” he closes his eyes, nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath.

”Would you go on a date with me?”

”You know,” Stiles is smiling so wide his face hurts, “usually people asks _before_ they park in front of the restaurant. But yeah, I’d love to go on a date with you.

Stiles doesn’t need to be a werewolf to smell the relief wafting off of Derek at his answer.

~x~

Derek’s barely 30 when he walks between the trees of the preserve hand in hand with his soul mate, matching marks under their dress shirts and matching bites on their necks.

**end**


End file.
